


Grid Locked

by duckhyuck



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aggression, Angst, Feelings, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Science Fiction, Sexual Content, Trans Character, Tron AU, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 04:29:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckhyuck/pseuds/duckhyuck
Summary: Doyoung wants to fall off the grid but not in the literal sense.





	Grid Locked

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so firstly this fic is just practice for an upcoming fic I'm beginning to work on. Just wanted to practice with some quick action scenes and sci-fi elements and settings. For the most part this was just self indulgent and the whole thing is loosely using the world and features of Tron and not the story line. I really hope you enjoy even though it honestly makes no fucking sense whoops!

“Fuck!”

Doyoung shifts his weight twisting the handles to shift his bike left, his back tire skidding out into a semicircle.

“Casper can you hear me?”

His intercom built into his helmet garbles static for a few short moments. In that time frame Doyoung’s heart does a low dip until the break of human noise hits the speaker.

“Yeah! I’m here! What’s the grid look like Rabbit?”

Doyoung glances around his surroundings, a strobe line of orange darts out to his right as the opposing player plans to cut him off in a few short seconds. Doyoung speeds up, preparing to veer left again.

“Sorry one second Casper I’m being closed in.” Doyoung gathers in his surroundings. “Grid contains a higher percentage of orange over blue. In short it’s not looking good for our team.”

There’s a brief pause in conversation.

“I kind of figured,” a chuckle comes through the line, “Rabbit I think I’ve made a silly mistake.”

Doyoung takes his sharp left, his blue light trailing his tail. He makes another sharp left forming a box around an orange opponent. The rider slams into the line, their bike shatters into millions of digital cubes before the rider falls limply through the translucent grid floor.

Doyoung swallows the lump in his throat and plans his next calculations.

“What do you mean Casper? What’s wrong?”

Doyoung’s grip tightens around the handles, his teeth are clenched. The opponent is closing in on him fast. He knows him too. You can never forget the orange team’s leader. His dark rimmed, hallow eyes, that swallow your entire entity.

His gaze pierces Doyoung as he glances back and it never seizes to shake up the blue rider.

“Careless mistake Rabbit, I’ve forgotten the new rules, I’m approaching the grids edge.”

Doyoung’s heart stops all together. The presence of the rider in front grows humongous and devours him while his mind is flashing every wrong signal.

“Jaehyun!” Doyoung shouts through the com, “Jaehyun cut in!”

“No can do Rabbit, the line next to me is blue I’ll just deflect instead of crash and fall through.”

His eyes widen and blur over and an immediate sense of loss washes over him. He releases his grip around the handles letting his bike continue on forward.

The biker in front looks at him carefully, eyes squinting, and then he speeds up before cutting over in front giving Doyoung a few more seconds before complete crash.

“Jaehyun you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Don’t miss me Doyoung.”

The com breaks and Doyoung hits the fine orange line.

 

                                                                                                <<00>>           

 

It’s always like this, waking up on a cold metal floor in his team’s locker room. It’s what happens to losers, to those that crash into opposing light trails. Unconscious for at least an hour until you unexpectedly awaken in the place you were an hour prior to the match.

Doyoung doesn’t lose often so the bitter taste in his mouth isn’t just from pixilated debris. Orange team gives them a tough run, defeating his team twice out of three matches now. Game schedules are evened out so teams play teams evenly and spread out. Twenty teams total, Orange, Mauve and Blue (his own) being the three struggling for first.

He sits up and runs a quick hand through his hair waiting for the fuzziness to clear from his vision.

_Casper...no Jaehyun._

Doyoung places his head in his hands hiding himself between his legs. He sits completely still, pathetically on the smooth icy surface.

They changed the rules this year. _They_ being the game masters. It is pondered universally as to whom _they_ are in regards to members of society or if they are even a part of it at all. This year young men from all districts of the holographic world they call home were selected at random to form teams for the game.

Before there were five set teams in which individuals could apply for in order to earn a little extra to support whatever life they were living. Generally the game had no repercussions, the grid edges were secured with barriers. The greatest risk was breaking a bone upon impact.

Something has changed now, morally. No barriers, the minute you hit the edge your bike shatters. Players are flung through the translucent walls that enclose the gaming field. The fall is unmeasured; if it leads to some sort ground then it’s far because a sound has never echoed from the void.

Doyoung endlessly thinks of the entire thing on an ethical standpoint but as a regular citizen he should just be thankful this hasn’t happened sooner. For now he picks at the idea that the fall is slow and that Jaehyun is safe, he’s landed somewhere and will return. He knows his hopes are far from any truth.

No one has ever returned.

The most frustrating part about the whole ordeal is there are no answers to anything. Why do innocent people have to be taken from their homes, suited up and given a colour? Why does the stage have to be so tilted? There’s nothing to grasp at. Originally Doyoung thought this all to be a culmination of decreasing the population subtly and enhancing entertainment but the population of each sector has been consistent for three decades. It took eight weeks of research to verify statistics and all. Now all he has left to justify this bullshit is that some sick fuck is messing with their own libido. Testing the limits. Edging society on slowly into some warped kind of hell so they can get off to the shambles they’ll all be in soon.

It’ll take time for an uprising. The new game rules caused conversation without action. The next push is what Doyoung is waiting for. _Hoping_ for.

Doyoung climbs to his feet, picking up his helmet that was so kindly left next to his unconscious body. He places it back on the top shelf of his locker and closes the metal door with a hissing squeak.

His neck feels stiff and there’s an ache low in his back but he’s grateful nothing has been broke. Considering they make you play in whatever state you’re in before the match he’ll be content with the muscle pain.

Steering with three broken fingers and a fractured rib is only good for making a victory feel sweeter.

He wanders to the mirror in the room to inspect his appearance. His orange hair lays flat from being compressed by the helmet. The bags under his eyes matched with stinging red rims insist that he must have cried while he was out cold. He prods under his eyes with his index finger and sighs outwardly. The only thing left to asses is the hollowness thinning out inside of his chest. Nothing fills his heart other than Jaehyun’s name and his endearing dimpled smile.

His own hand claws at the glowing piece of plastic around his heart but it’s fused into the leather suit so it’s futile to try and remove. He gives up and catches the breath he’s been holding. He’ll have to forget Jaehyun. He’ll have to pretend not to notice his missing codename from the roster. This is the part he is morbidly good at; because he can bend his mind, divide up his memories and gaslight every single fucking image of that innocent kid.

Then he’ll simply walk away.

 

<<00>>

 

The corridor seems longer than before or maybe he hit his head bad during the crash. Doyoung’s steps echo off the metal walls, his shoes with steel plating on the heel and toes clack heavy against the floor. He feels like dead weight.

He takes a right, short cutting through the red corridors that dorm its corresponding team. When he’s just at the edge of the foreign quarters he catches a figure in front of him.

He’s smaller than him, and he is leaning back against the fluorescent blue light built into the wall signifying new quarters. Doyoung’s blue quarters to be specific.

Doyoung stills as he takes notice of the orange accents decorating the slim fitting leather suit on this person. His eyes follow the patterns up to dark eyes and crisp white hair then back down to their daunting eyes. Doyoung feels like his face is being clawed apart by the gaze thrown at him.

For once in his life he can’t find words to speak.

The man pushes himself off the wall and plants himself directly in front of Doyoung. He opens his mouth to speak then closes it just as quick.

Doyoung can’t help but let out a wry laugh, “Do you want something from me.” His voice comes out a little higher than he would have preferred. He can’t help it though as rage begins boiling in the back of his mind. This white haired devil is single handily going to break all his efforts he spent reforming his emotions post match.

The man swallows and looks down at his feet. In a bizarre fashion Doyoung bears witness to how small this man’s presence is when he’s bare and off grid. The intense blackness of his eyes is no longer sinister but lonely. His usually stiff lined mouth is now lax and pouty. Up close, Doyoung’s greatest opponent is no more than a timid man with an overbearing facade.

After a short break of silence the man brings his gaze back up.

“My name is Taeyong.”

“And this should matter to me for what reason?”

The man shakes his head, “For no reason, I just thought it’d be respectful to introduce myself is all.”

Doyoung will admit later that it was a little shitty of him to be so snippy.

“Yes, yes, whatever, my name is Doyoung—

“—I know—

“—Oh I’m fucking sure you do Taeyong now tell me, what thought are you trying to spare with me here, at the edge of my own quarters?”

Doyoung crosses his arms as a natural human instinct to defend him from whatever the guy is gonna verbally throw at him.

“I just wanted to tell you that I know your friend is alright,” Taeyong starts weakly, “you might not believe me but I had to let you know regardless.”

Doyoung’s eyes glaze over, he spins on his heel and plants his fist hard against the corridor wall and the loose panel shakes sending an echoing bang outwards.

“Fuck!” Tears spill from his eyes, all his hard work turns to nothing in an instant. He turns back to face a now scared Taeyong. He points his index finger aggressively in the other’s face. “You’re doing this to fuck with me aren’t you? Trying to make me believe in all this bullshit? You want to catch me in a weak moment where I’ll actually consider the prospects of following after him right?” Doyoung grabs Taeyong’s shoulder pushing him back into the opposing wall with a jostle. “That’s what you fucking want, don’t you?”

Taeyong closes his eyes and relaxes in Doyoung’s intense grip. He shakes his head no, his white hair softly flailing.

The rage built up within Doyoung simmers and he lets the shorter go. He wipes away at his own eyes sniffling while back peddling. He hits the wall with his back then slides down bringing his knees to his chest.

“I’m sorry, I knew this wouldn’t be the right time but it was the only time I could catch you.”

Doyoung lifts his head banging it lightly into the same loose metal piece.  He laughs again, it’s terribly dry and he loses it to a cough near the end. “Oh don’t apologize I’m the idiot that’s about to humor you.”

Taeyong seems to startle at Doyoung’s quick three sixty.

“Don’t be so proud.” Doyoung calls out. “You aren’t the first person to snap my composure so easily.”

Taeyong nods and takes a seat across from him.

Doyoung lets his legs go straight and his shoulders go lax. He gathers his hands together in between his parted legs. “Alright Taeyong, give me one reason. One reason as to why I should believe my teammate’s life wasn’t a write off the minute he dipped off of the grid.”

“Okay,” Taeyong begins. His voice his firm, his confidence is slowly building back up and Doyoung finally sees the ambitious aura of the demon he knows best during a match. “You have coms between all your players right?”

Doyoung nods.

“Right, so about eight games ago I lost my right hand man, it was a fluke and a wicked good play.” Taeyong pauses, the memory is obviously still fresh and painful. “At that time we were speaking through the com. So when he fell out our pieces were still directly connected.”

Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows.

“After that match I was mourning so heavily that I had forgotten to take any of my equipment off. I walked back to my dorm, helmet on and everything. I was so out of it I never even switched the come off when I eventually took the entire thing off.”

Doyoung’s heart begins to thump so tremendously that he swears there’s no possible way Taeyong can’t hear it.

“I placed it down on the table and lied down myself. It was that moment when I heard it. It couldn’t have been anyone else. My mates had removed everything, I verified the next morning before our double header match. The static, it was all real, the syllables and broken up voice. I knew it was him.”

Doyoung blinks. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and the accumulation of sweat on his palms becomes itchy. “Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath. He can feel his bottom lip quivering and the irritating, salty tears begin to well up again. When he closes his eyes the next thing he feels is being pulled into an embrace.

He breathes in deeply through his nose and lets out a pitiful sob against the rough patterned front of Taeyong’s leather suit.

“I know the feeling,” Taeyong whispers on the top of his head, “its okay to let it out.”

Doyoung pulls the other one’s body into his own tighter, hiding every little bit of shame on his face.

“I came with another incentive, it seems I’ve made you remember what you’ve worked to put away. Can I possibly help put it all back?”

Doyoung pulls away slightly and looks up at Taeyong with raised eyebrows.

Taeyong takes the opening and presses a soft three second kiss to Doyoung’s mouth.

Doyoung’s mouth falls open with a quiet _oh._ Taeyong is looking at him like he’s a puzzle, awaiting approval to continue. Doyoung closes his mouth and mimics their first kiss once more. A twinkle encircles Taeyong’s eyes when they part.

“Where’s your dorm?” Taeyong asks with a shake in his voice.

“Follow me.”

 

<<00>>

 

He takes Taeyong’s lips with his own the minute the door shuts behind them. It’s frantic, their hands are everywhere. If Taeyong wanted to say something before it would be impossible now.

It’s a messy beginning of trying to figure shit out. They don’t know each other beyond the grid, their likes and preferences are a mystery. And the last time Doyoung had someone else working him up was years ago before he was brought to this place. Now he only has time for a quick release in the shower after matches.

He’s so keyed up for this but is simultaneously embarrassed that he’s letting his sexual urges take presidency. He lets go of his worries when Taeyong’s tongue slides over his lower lip. _Even a good man will succumb to nature._

 While he may have slipped for the other’s tantalization Doyoung still plans to put up a fight. He runs his tongue right back of Taeyong’s lips over and over until they part for him. Doyoung is anything but sloppy in what he does, even while exploring someone’s mouth he is meticulous. It’s cruel but he wants this memory more than any other regarding Jaehyun. He wants to burn this vividly into his skull. He needs to remember the heat and tension.

Their noses bump carelessly and eyelashes flutter. Doyoung skims his hands up along Taeyong’s arms to cup his jaw, tilting his head just so he can get the slightest bit more of him. A small whine escapes Taeyong’s mouth in the process and Doyoung relishes it. He’s ready to devour every ounce of possible insecurity or submission Taeyong emits tonight. He demands it now more than ever since he won’t get the opportunity back on the grid.

Taeyong begins walking backwards pulling Doyoung by the hips towards the bed. They part briefly, saliva dripping from Taeyong’s lower lip to his chin.

When the smaller is finally on his back Doyoung situates himself on top, framing his face with his forearms. He dips back in, wet mouths clashing together in a much tamer kiss now that they’ve worked out easy angles between them.

Taeyong’s slim fingers come up to card through Doyoung’s vibrant hair, gently tugging as Doyoung nibbles at his mouth.

Having the pull at his hair turns Doyoung on more than he’d like to admit and it’s becoming unbearably hot in his skin tight suit. He needs friction and desperately. He lowers his hips and grinds down against Taeyong hard then stills completely.

Doyoung opens his eyes to see Taeyong with his own clamped shut.

Either Taeyong really isn’t feeling it or he doesn’t have—

Doyoung sits up so he’s sitting lightly on Taeyong’s hips. He trails his hands down Taeyong’s flat chest then slowly down to his crotch, which is just as Doyoung though, flat as well.

“Taeyong—

“—No I’m sorry I should have told you, I should have said something sooner.” Taeyong tries wiggling his way out from underneath Doyoung.

“Taeyong—

“—Doyoung, please, I’m embarrassed. I’m really sorry but you have a lot more to pick from here than this disappointment.”

“Taeyong!” Doyoung grabs his arm. The man turns back to face him, tears rolling over the curves of his cheeks. He brings his other hand up to Taeyong’s face thumbing away tears before pulling him down into a gentle kiss. Taeyong sobs into the kiss.

“Don’t cry, please,” Doyoung whispers trying to calm the other. The smaller one’s body trembles as he slowly collects him in his arms.

Taeyong speaks up after a few shuddering breaths. “With others I always had the chance to tell them before. They’re always excited to find out. I was going to tell you but you kept kissing me and by then you really believed...I didn’t know how to stop...how to tell you that you wouldn’t actually be interested in what I had to offer.”

“Wait, hold on, others use you because you’re...

Taeyong nods sheepishly into Doyoung’s shoulders.

“No more.” Doyoung states flatly.

“No more?”

“You’re not for their sick pleasure, no more Taeyong.”

“I don’t understand—

“It’s fucked up Taeyong! They treat you like you’re not a man when you clearly fucking are! I know this place is shitty as fuck but my God you shouldn’t have to stoop that low to get by. I don’t have to know you to know this much.”

Taeyong covers his mouth with his hand choking back another sob.

“No more okay,” Doyoung says with his voice back to its softer pitch.

“Okay.” Taeyong whispers. He takes a moment and gathers himself back up. “My second offer still stands. I won’t be offended if you decline it now though.”

“Well it’d be fucking stupid of me to decline an offer from probably the hottest guy here. The only thing I have against you is the fact that I want to crush you on the grid every time you take out one of my teammates.”

Taeyong breaks out into his first grin. “Have an idea of what you want?” He mutters over Doyoung’s lips, their breath mingling.

“I’m a simple guy who’s quite tired of using his own hand.” Doyoung puts bluntly.

Taeyong laughs, “Consider it done.”

They fall back into the casualness they were building up. Doyoung loses interest in being dominant and welcomes Taeyong’s tongue and lets the man teach him that a filthy kiss isn’t always such a bad thing. Taeyong pulls the zipper on Doyoung’s back down to just above his butt crack. He starts peeling the leather suit off right after.

Doyoung works with the other to get the suit to pool just below his ass and around his thighs. The legs are always the hardest to get around anyway. His semi rests against his hardened abs, waiting for contact.

Taeyong is quick to please, wrapping his calloused hand around Doyoung’s member and tugging it to full hardness.

Doyoung takes in a sharp breath. The sensation is overwhelming, it’s been too long. He takes a glance at Taeyong who’s transfixed with his stiff cock.

“Fucking hot.” Taeyong bites his lower lip.

His words send a shiver through Doyoung and his member throbs in the grip. He leans forward so his lips touch the shell of Taeyong’s ear. “ _Mmm_ show me what your hands can do besides steer like a pro.”

Taeyong whines at the talk thrown at him, eager to prove himself. He spits into his palm and gathers precome from the tip and works out a smooth slide up and down the shaft. He thumbs the slit every once in a while and lets his palm smother the tip before stroking back down to the base.

Doyoung grunts loudly and grabs Taeyong by his suit collar to smash their lips together in an open mouthed kiss.

Taeyong keeps working away, speeding up in increments until Doyoung is pulling away moaning like a pathetic horny mess. His back arches and he bits the back of his hand as he cums over the other’s hand and his own stomach. Taeyong continues his ministrations until he’s got nothing left in him.

“Fuck that was good.” Doyoung opens his eyes to see Taeyong licking at his hand; he closes them again in defeat, “Jesus Christ.”

Taeyong giggles softly. Doyoung can’t help but find it charming. Post orgasm bliss really has his walls down but he’s too pleasure filled to hate it.

“Can I return the favour?”

Taeyong’s mouth goes back into its common stiff line, his eyes scan around the room at a loss for anything.

“I—don’t expect that you really want to...”

Doyoung pokes his forehead.“Well I certainly thought I knew you, didn’t expect you to be one to back away so easily. You show differently than in game. You don’t have to take anything off for your own comfort; I’m offering a perfectly good thigh.”

Taeyong hesitates but eventually comes a little more forward. He lets the hands Doyoung has cupped around his ass cheeks seat him on his thigh.

Doyoung pulls Taeyong down and forward by his ass letting Taeyong’s groin rub against the gripped thigh area of his suit. A moan falls right from Taeyong’s mouth.

“God that’s fucking hot.” Doyoung says breathlessly.

He begins mouthing at the other’s neck once they catch full rhythm. Taeyong’s hips roll more frantically over time, grinding down harder and harder, chasing bliss. His cheeks are covered in a deep red blush. After a few more moments of Doyoung’s mouth and hands all over him his whole body tenses then shudders. He becomes boneless in the taller one’s arms.

Doyoung feels dampness on his shoulder, where Taeyong’s face rests, panting heavily. He holds him close.

“No more.”

 

<<00>>

 

0500

Doyoung is suited up. He straps the Velcro of his gloves tighter around his wrists as he makes his way down the corridors to his locker room. His game will begin at 0600. He slows down abruptly when familiar colours hit his peripheral. He takes a chance and glances down a hall where he lucks out.

Taeyong was waiting for him to pass by. He gives a quick wink before dipping back into his dorm.

Doyoung breaks into a grin, he’ll never look at him the same way on the grid ever again. Not after last night’s impulses.

He steps into the heavily air conditioned locker room and greets his teammates. The mood is mostly somber over yesterday’s defeat and of course the loss of Casper.

“Nothing holds us back today boys! Yellow has been sneaking up in the ranks. They’re expert trailers our guards must be up at all times! Understood!”

“Yes captain!” The men shout in unison at Doyoung.

“Excellent, let’s get em’ boys!”

Doyoung puts his helmet on before the others and taps the com on.

He hears static.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope this was something you enjoyed! I'm not sure how to feel about it yet so comments are very much appreciated as well as kudos! thank you for taking the time to read!!


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